


When it Rains, it Pours

by lost_stickie_note



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Birthday Zhangjing, M/M, ZhangYi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-14 03:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20593622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_stickie_note/pseuds/lost_stickie_note
Summary: Ziyi is all blues, blacks, and greys, and Zhangjing just wants to catch him in color.✧ ✧ ✧Prompt:#155: Zhangjing only sees his hot neighbor when it rains. Ziyi is an unlucky person who happens to do laundry before it rains





	When it Rains, it Pours

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 25th Birthday You Zhangjing! ♡ Fell in love with him since Idol Producer, and he's the reason I got back into writing. Over the past year and a half, he's brought us all so much joy, and I'm super proud of everything he's accomplished. I hope you all enjoy even though it's not a Zhangjun this time.
> 
> Shameless promotion of my other works~~ More to come soon. ♡
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote) for updates, randomness, etc. or to scream about Zhangjun, my DMs are always open.

“You can tell a lot about a person from the towel they use.”

Chaoze looks at him strangely, clearly not understanding exactly where he is going with the sentence, or likely wondering if he even knows what he is trying to say. And the vision of the grey towel slung out on a clothesline on the balcony of one of the apartments in the building facing his own comes to his mind, the particularly strong gust of wind lifting up the edges of the towel until it’s almost horizontal, spread out as if it’s a magic carpet, the only thing keeping the towel from flying away, the large clothespins anchoring both ends, a bright white contrasting against the dark grey. He had happened to catch a glimpse of the scene by chance, mindlessly staring out glass door leading to his balcony at the exact right moment to see the towel fluttering in the wind like a flag.

“Their towel. You know, the thing they use when they step out of the shower.”

“What about it?”

“Oh, nevermind.”

The thought follows him home, the image of the gray towel engraved on his mind, the beginnings of a fanciful flight taking hold of him. The previous occupant of the particular apartment has been an elderly lady whom Zhangjing would wave to once in a while, but he hasn’t seen her for some time, just assuming that the lady had moved out. For some reason, it never crossed his mind that someone else would be moving in, but this morning, the grey towel had appeared without warning.

And he is _intrigued_.

He doesn’t know who it can possibly be, but he likes to imagine. The grey is a strongly neutral color, the type of color people pick to avoid having everything be black and white but also nondescript enough that it can be paired with anything. _A safe color. _Zhangjing waffles, pondering whether his new neighbor is a boy or a girl. A boy, he decides, the grey a dark grey instead of a light one. And this boy is the type to keep everything neat and orderly, the responsible type. The shade of grey makes him imagine the boy is always on time, punctual to a fault, always one to show up with a gift when visiting friends.

Zhangjing is so busy concocting the perfect backstory and life for his neighbor that he nearly doesn’t notice the rain starting to fall, the small droplets quickly turning into fatter ones, painting the pavement with dark blotches, plastering the hair to his forehead. It’s a summer rain, the sky still clear and blue, only a few clouds drifting across the sky, the wisps of white curling in the horizon. The rain is warm, and as he looks up, the beginnings of a rainbow are forming, the bands of color hovering in the air in each place the rain touches, leading off into the distance. He wishes he brought an umbrella, the wetness slicking his shirt to his back, the thin material of his t-shirt not enough protection, soaking through in a matter of minutes. Zhangjing feels his toes curl uncomfortably in his shoes, his converse not quite adept at keeping out the rain, his soaks already start to squish in between his toes.

It takes him a bit too long to get back to his apartment, and he grumbles, grabbing the towel from the bathroom to dry his hair, glancing out the door to the balcony, the rain obscuring his view slightly. Zhangjing squints, spotting the towels still hung up in his line of sight. As he watches, a figure appears on the balcony, a boy in all-black, a t-shirt thrown over pants, hands reaching up to hurriedly take down the towel, the clothesline dipping low as the boy struggles to unpin the towel. He moves closer to the door, trying to discern more details about his new neighbor, his nose pressed up against the glass. Zhangjing can tell the other boy is handsome, the definition on his arms apparent even through the rain as he reaches upwards. And he wishes he can see the other boy’s face too, the boy running his hand through his wet hair, slicking it back.

After a few moments, the boy disappears back inside, taking the grey towel with him, the lonely clothesline swaying in the downpour. Zhangjing feels a twinge of regret, not able to quite catch the glimpse he was hoping for of the other boy. _He’ll probably have to do laundry again too. _Very unlucky that it had rained.

Zhangjing sighs.

\----

“Hey, Chaoze, have you met the new boy that moved in yet?” Zhangjing pauses to shovel another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, the mango-y sweetness making his tongue tingle. His friend looks up from the textbook he’s reading, wide eyes peering owl-ishly over his round frames. “I mean, not exactly. We passed by each other in the lobby last week. Why do you ask?”

“No, I was just curious to know what he’s like.” Zhangjing thinks back to a few weeks ago, the image of the towel appearing again the next day to dry, disappearing by the end of the day, its owner no where to be seen to his disappointment. “He had his bathroom towels out drying the last time it rained, and I couldn’t get a good look at him.”

Chaoze laughs. “What, are you trying to date him or something?”

Zhangjing feels the tips of his ears turning red, the heat making its way down to his cheeks, his voice defensive. “Why do you assume that I want to date him?”

“Because I’ve seen him.” Chaoze taps the table with the back of his pencil. “And he is _hot_.” His friend grins at him. “Like smoking, can-probably-set-fire-to-your-room-without-trying, hot.” Chaoze wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.” His friends stuffs another French fry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “I mean, maybe you have a chance, but it’s hard to say.”

“I wasn’t asking to _date_ him. I just want to meet him. It’s been so long since someone new moved in.”

“Well, if you don’t want to date him now, you will after meeting him.”

\---

Zhangjing swears when he feels the first droplets of rain starting to fall, the telltale wetness spotting his clothes. He remembers checking the weather before leaving, the app on his phone claiming there would be no chance of rain, with clear and sunny skies all day. _Bullshit. _He’s still two blocks away from home, and the heavens seem to sense it, the rain picking up at an alarming rate. Zhangjing quickens his pace, breaking out into a fast-paced power walk.

He doesn’t notice the footsteps coming up behind him. But suddenly, he’s not getting wet anymore, a casted shadow protecting him from the rain.

“Hey.”

Zhangjing looks backwards, startled by the soft voice, and he can’t find the words to respond, his mouth open and gaping at the other boy, who’s looking at him with a slight smile gracing his lips. “Forgot your umbrella? You can take mine.”

_You’re beautiful._

He can’t bring himself to say anything lest the wrong words come out, and Zhangjing opts to stare mutely up at the other boy instead. “My name’s Ziyi. I just moved in recently.” And then Ziyi’s hands are on his, curling his hand around the handle of the umbrella, his hands warm and embracing. Before he can say his name, the other boy gives him a quick smile and dashes off, his feet kicking up the water that is already starting to puddle in the street, leaving Zhangjing dumbfoundedly after him.

Zhangjing can still feel the ghost of the other boy’s hand over his as he walks up the stairs to his apartment, clutching the handle of the bright baby blue umbrella, the warmth of Ziyi’s palm still lingering on the back of his icy cold hands. He carefully shakes the excess water off before leaving the umbrella open to dry on his doormat, struggling to remember the details of the other boy’s face, only briefly visible to him, but the only thing he can fully picture are Ziyi’s eyes. Giving off a sense of kindness and security. And the wisp of a smile tugging gently at the corner of his lips.

Chaoze is right.

The thought of dating this beautiful stranger sends imaginary butterflies fluttering in his stomach, the feeling of giddiness bubbling up in him like he’s had too much soda to drink, an overwhelming sweetness. _Next time. _Next time he will for sure say something to Ziyi, the regret washing over him at the thought that he hadn’t even managed to blurt out his name.

And all Zhangjing can picture as he goes to sleep is Ziyi’s half-formed smile, the smell of a sudden summer rain on blacktop pavement filling his dreams.

\---

Zhangjing doesn’t catch the beginning of the rain, the light pitter patter against his window masked by the music coming from his noise cancelling headphones while working at hit kitchen table. It isn’t until he looks up by chance that he realizes there is a slight smattering, the sky beginning to darken as if it’s gearing up to unleash an even bigger downpour. _Ziyi. _He peers outside at the other boy’s balcony, the billowing of what looks like bedsheets marring the sky apparent. The same clothespins that were used to pin up Ziyi’s towels from before are evidently not enough to keep ahold of his bedsheets, the far corner already undone, the entire sheet threatening to fly off into the wind, with only one flimsy clothespin left.

His heart leaps into his throat as he sees the last one give in, the sheet ready to take flight, but before it has the chance to, it is caught, the fingertips of the other boy catching the opposite edge. And for an instant, time is frozen for Zhangjing, a split second where the sheets are in the air, swelling out from behind the other boy like a majestic cape of sorts, a dark blue, almost black, and Zhangjing is reminded of Ziyi’s eyes, staring at him with a frank and simple honesty. He would have been content with just this image, but Zhangjing then catches a glimpse of Ziyi himself.

The other boy is topless, his wide expanse of skin completely exposed down to the waist of his black jeans, his feet bare, and Zhangjing unwittingly gapes as he watches Ziyi gather his sheets into a bundle, the smooth curve of the other boy’s bicep forming a perfect crescent like a hollowed out moon. And his cheeks heat up as the boy turns to leave, the perfect view of his uncovered back filling Zhangjing’s sight, the pinch in the middle as Ziyi brings his shoulders back, the deepened hollow in his back as Zhangjing traces his gaze down lower and lower.

_Oh Lord. _

Because now his mind has caught up with the rest of him, and Zhangjing feels hot all over as he imagines the other boy’s bare back framed by the blue-black of his bedsheets, the thought of Ziyi splayed out on his bed, his shoulders slightly hunched over, his back curled, one foot hanging off the side. And maybe the other boy doesn’t need blankets tonight, the weather too hot to bear, the humidity even worse, making the backs of his t-shirts stick uncomfortably to his skin. Warm enough that Ziyi will need to peel off all his layers, until it is just his skin that is pressed up against his sheets.

His cellphone rings before he can fall too far down the rabbit hole of inappropriate thoughts, Chaoze’s name flashing across the screen. _It’s like he has an intuition for awkward situations. _He lets it go to voicemail, the follow-up text hitting his notifications immediately, an invite for him to join Chaoze for lunch. Zhangjing continues to glance over periodically as he gets ready, hoping to catch sight of Ziyi again but the other boy’s balcony door remains firmly closed. He hesitates at the door, the blue umbrella looking back at him enticingly, a bright spot next to his own black one. Before he can change his mind, he grabs it.

Chaoze raises an eyebrow at him the instant he walks into their favorite café, shaking off the rain and wrangling with closing the umbrella. He sits down with a plop into the seat across from his best friend, nodding his thanks to the waiter who brings over his favorite coffee without needing to be asked, gratefully taking a sip to warm himself. “That doesn’t look like your umbrella.”

“It isn’t.”

“Oh?”

“It’s Ziyi’s.”

“Who’s that?”

“The boy who just moved in.”

“_Oh_.”

Zhangjing feels the need to defend himself against Chaoze, the other boy grinning at him with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “He was just being nice.”

“You haven’t given it back?”

“I haven’t found a chance to.” He retorts, not willing to admit that he has spent several instances staring at it and trying to muster up the courage to, the flash of blue giving him a stab of joy each time he sees it. Needless to say, he is in no hurry to return it to its proper owner. “Or the time.” He finishes lamely, inwardly cursing that Chaoze seems determined not to let it go.

“So on a scale of 1-10, how attractive do you think he is? With one being not interested in the slightest, and ten being you’d get into his bed no questions asked?”

Zhangjing nearly chokes on his drink, the unbidden image of Ziyi’s back rising to the forefront of his mind.

“That good, huh?”

\---

Zhangjing always forgets the combination to his mailbox, the third number on the edge of his mind, frustratingly eluding him. He swears as his fourth try is wrong again, the dial staring back at him mockingly, the latch refusing to budge. Chaoze had chided him the last time, shaking his head and claiming that Zhangjing needed to save the combination on his phone. The misgivings only surface now, and Zhangjing promises himself that he will save the numbers as soon as he gets it to open. He is so absorbed with trying to remember that he doesn’t notice the other boy sidle up next to him until he speaks.

“Are you having trouble?”

Ziyi stares at him, not breaking eye contact with his unwavering gaze, his eyes dark and velvety smooth like the surface of a well-worn pebble. The only thing he can do is nod mutely in response, the feeling of wanting to run far, far away and simultaneously having his feet glued to the floor flooding him. The other boy’s hair is slightly damp, the tendrils of hair clumping together and flopping over his eyes, and Zhangjing’s heart skips a beat as Ziyi runs his hand through his hair to push it back.

Ziyi’s hair isn’t the only thing that’s wet.

Zhangjing blushes, the white tshirt that the other boy is wearing soaked through, the material clinging to his chest in a way that makes Zhangjing remember Ziyi topless. Except now Ziyi is close enough that he can touch him, a hand’s width away, and Zhangjing would be able to brush his fingertips over the other boy’s arm. He wonders if Ziyi would feel more real if he did, something more than just a fantasy that he looks at outside his window.

“What’s your combination?”

“5, 28, 32.” Zhangjing responds promptly without thinking, and he hopes Ziyi doesn’t hear the small sharp breath that escapes his mouth as the other boy leans forward to try, the sudden wetness of Ziyi’s t-shirt grazing his shoulder.

_Pop._

“Just have to jiggle the handle a bit more.” Ziyi gives him a warm smile, and Zhangjing murmurs a soft thanks in return. “Sorry, but I’ve got to run. I left all my clothes out, and it already started raining.” Ziyi waves at him as he leaves. “See you around.”

For the umpteenth time, Zhangjing watches as the other boy struggles to take down all his laundry as the rain comes down, an unlucky happenstance that Ziyi never seems to catch a break with the weather. The blue umbrella glares at him from the corner, reminding him that it has overstayed its welcome, and with a rush, Zhangjing realizes that he forgot to tell Ziyi his name again.

\----

“So, have you tried to make a move yet?”

“What _move_? You’re making it sound like I have some alternative motive whenever I see him.” Zhangjing sighs. “And even if I _did_,” Zhangjing frowns at Chaoze who is gleefully smiling at him. “it’s not like I get that many chances to talk to him anyways. We’ve only bumped into each other _twice _since he moved in, and it’s been weeks already.”

“And the first time, he gave you his umbrella. The second, he helped you open your mailbox.” Chaoze shakes his finger at him. “By the way, I told you to put your combination in your phone, but no, of course, you don’t listen to me, your clearly much smarter and wiser best friend.”

“Shut up.”

“Besides, you have a ready-made move anyways.”

Zhangjing looks at his best friend blankly, who resorts to rolling his eyes in exasperation. “The umbrella? The one you haven’t returned after two weeks?” Chaoze laughs. “I mean, at this point, he probably thinks you’re one of those flaky people that borrows things and never returns them.”

“I am _not_.”

“I’m not saying you are, just that it might be the way you look to him right now.” Chaoze licks another bite of his ice cream, the slightly melted chocolate dripping down the side of his cone. “But you can solve that by, you know, giving it back.” He pauses. “And perhaps also dramatically falling into his arms as you see him so that he can sweep you off your feet.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Zhangjing frowns at his friend. “Is that really the best you can come up with?”

“Better than anything you’ve come up with so far…which is a grand total of zero ideas. Zero.”

_Okay, true._

“But how am I even supposed to return it?” He complains. “I only bump into him by accident. It’s not like I’m going to carry it around forever until I happen to see him. And it’s not like I know where he lives.”

“Ummm, actually you do.”

_Oh, crap._

Zhangjing puts his hands up, frantically trying to backtrack and somehow take back what he’s said as Chaoze looks on triumphantly with a wicked glint in his eye. “So what you’re saying is that if you know where he lives, you’d totally march yourself up to his door and finally _make this happen_? Well, I’m glad since you _do _know where he lives, and now, I must insist. Chop, chop.”

He doesn’t bother resisting as Chaoze pushes him unwillingly towards his door, grabbing the umbrella and placing it in his hand. “What if he’s not there? It’s not like I even know whether he’s home right now.” Zhangjing’s mind continues churning, desperate for some excuse to get out of his impending doom.

“Then you just go another day. But no time like the present.”

And all too suddenly, Zhangjing finds himself on the wrong side of his apartment door, the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place echoing in the hallway. Chaoze’s voice is muffled through the door, and Zhangjing needs to strain to hear what his friend says. “I’m not letting you back in until you go talk to him. And since you’re locked out of your apartment without your keys, you really have no choice now.”

Zhangjing groans.

The trudge to Ziyi’s apartment seems like a death sentence, and Zhangjing endeavors to make the walk down two flights of stairs to the seventh floor last as long as humanly possible, his feet dragging unenthusiastically, the umbrella swinging from his wrist. _Why? Just why? _But a small part of him is hoping, hoping that maybe the other boy felt something too, that he wasn’t just being nice for the sake of being _nice_. He knocks on the door twice, waiting for the sound of someone coming to the door.

The door opens, and Zhangjing is struck by Ziyi’s presence again, the boy dressed simply in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, a towel in his hands, his hair wet and flopping in his face, looking as if he’s just gotten out of the shower. The sight flusters Zhangjing, and all the words he had planned on saying leave him, the remainder coming out in a jumbled mess. “So you let me borrow your umbrella a while ago, but I never returned it. I’ve been meaning to, but I kept forgetting. And now I feel really bad because you probably think I’m irresponsible and-“ The thought dawns on him, increasing his self-consciousness. “-you probably only have one umbrella, which means I’m probably also the reason you’re getting wet.” His eyes widen in horror. “Not that wet, I mean, like, wet from the _rain_, and-“

_Please stop me._

But then Ziyi smiles at him, and it is like the sun peeking through the clouds after a long rainstorm, the moment when the smallest hints of a rainbow are starting to form. And it is a full-blown smile this time, the corners of the other boy’s mouth upturning widely to show his teeth, Ziyi’s head shaking in what seems like gentle curiosity.

Zhangjing takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down.

“Let me start over. Hi, I’m Zhangjing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote)  
CC: [@loststickienote](https://curiouscat.me/loststickienote)


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